


Let It Go (You're the One that I Want)

by thelittlelion



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Halloween Costumes, Rule 63, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlelion/pseuds/thelittlelion
Summary: Thom isn't feeling the party. Her dress is beautiful, but the company is a bore. It doesn't help that her least favorite freshman is there, hanging off Marie's arm in some ridiculous excuse for a costume.
When she leaves, she just wants to take off her heels and relax. Instead, she get Alex Hamilton and the elevator from hell.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/gifts).



> Posting this with a very light edit because I want to get it up for Halloween. There will be typos.

Thom shouldn’t be surprised to see Hamilton here, but she is.

She steps into the door of Marie’s apartment to hear Hamilton’s grating laugh sound high over the din the crowd. Automatically, she grinds her teeth. Looking over, she finds her least favorite freshman hanging off Marie’s arm near the kitchen, wrapped in some god-awful black dress. She’s too far away for Thom to make out whatever animal ears Hamilton’s used to justify it as a costume, but she doesn’t need to. Of course, Hamilton would be the type to whore it up for Halloween.

“Just let it go,” Jamie urges, squeezing her arm. Thom shoots her a grin, but it falters when she hear Hamilton laugh again. Jesus, what could be so funny?

Of course Hamilton would show up right on the night Thom is trying to relax. She nods at Jamie, waiting until her best friend pulls away, her pointed hat disappearing into the crowd, before she takes a breath and slowly draws off her coat. She hangs it on a hook near the door, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror just as she’s debating walking right back out of the party.

Her cape falls long to the floor, shining even under the dimmed lights of Marie’s apartment. The light catches on the stones embroidered on her chest and the glitter she’d brushed over her skin, high on her cheeks and up over her eyes. Her breath catches just as it had the first time she’d tried the dress on in the store – and the many, many times after when she’d agonized over buying it. She thinks of the time she’s already spent tonight making sure the high seam of her dress lay just right along her thigh, perfecting the wing of her eyeliner and the dark purple of her lipstick.

“If you’re wearing that dress you have to own it,” Jamie had reminded her, just before they’d left their apartment. Jamie own costume was demure, a witch’s outfit complete with striped green socks and a pointed hat, a perfect contrast to Thom’s own. Jamie would never be caught dead in what Thom was wearing, but she’d went back to the store with her every time and had never complained when Thom had hesitated, leaving empty handed.

Thom casts her eyes around for Jamie, but her best friend has vanished, probably seeking out some lonely corner to spend the night whittling away on her phone. She’d come to the party at Thom’s request, after all. Marie was much more Thom’s friend than Jamie’s.

She squares her shoulders in the mirror, straightening up to her full height. She’s tall already. On heals, she towers. She doesn’t notice when Marie spots her across the room, but she hears her shout.

“Thom, you look ravishing!”

Thom probably shouldn’t feel as pleased as she does watching her friend quickly peel herself away from Hamilton and cross the room to greet her. Marie lands a kiss on both her cheeks, careful not to smear her makeup. Because it’s Marie, Thom manages to smile sincerely back, taking in her friend’s exaggerated French maid’s outfit, fishnet up to her thighs secured by bright red garters.

Some of her good humor dies, however, when over her shoulder she sees that Marie’s more unfortunate friends have spotted her. Mulligan she doesn’t mind much, but Laurens is openly glaring and Hamilton looks ready to try to physically chuck her out of the apartment.

She can’t, of course. It’s Marie’s place. And Thom was personally invited.

“I thought you said she wouldn’t be here,” Thom complains.

Marie knows who she’s talking about, of course. She pouts, pulling on Thom’s wrist until she’s forced to uncross her arms.

“Now, now, Alex is my friend too,” Marie chides. “There is room enough for both of you.”

“Tell that to her,” Thom barks, but it’s too late. Hamilton must know they’re talking about her, because she comes storming in their direction, planting herself by Marie’s side and obnoxiously leaning against her arm.

“Come on, Lafayette,” she says, ignoring Thom completely. “Herc says she’ll shot gun the whole can this time.”

“In a minute, Alex,” Marie promises, while Thom looks away and mutters, “Delightful.”

Hamilton’s eyes slide to her. “You have something to say, Jefferson?” she sneers. Thom has never understood Hamilton’s obsession with only using last names, but she admits there’s something nice about the way _Hamilton_ spits out of her mouth.

“Marie and I were just disparaging over how we so wished you were housebroken,” Thom drawls, feeling the years and years of cotillion school welling up in her as she smiles, the lace that hides the knife.

There’s something even better about the way Hamilton has to crane her neck backward to meet Thom’s eyes, even in the heals she’s wearing.

“Oh please,” Hamilton sneers.

“No really,” Thom insists. “Please tell me your not attempting to _drink_ tonight. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, now would we?”

A red flush crawls up Hamilton’s neck, the depths of her blush exposed by the low cut of her dress. Thom’s smile grows.

Hamilton must remember as well as her the night they’d met; the horrible study group Marie had proposed and Thom agreed too, not knowing she’d invited half the freshmen class. If it wasn’t enough to get into a fight over the school’s new budget plan with some upstart freshman girl (Hamilton actual arguing _against_ spending money on the football team when half the school’s money was generated by sport related sales), the icing on the cake had come only after somebody had broken out the booze. Hamilton, the lightweight, had thrown up right in the middle of the living room, directly on Marie’s shoes, and Thom had laughed herself silly, vindicated.

They’d been avoiding each other ever since.

“It’s Lafayette’s house. Obviously I’m staying,” Hamilton bites back, recovering quickly.

“I, too, was requested to be here,” Thom says blithely. She can feel her annoyance growing, relieved when Marie steps between them.

“That’s enough,” she says firmly. “You are both my friends. I would like you to be friendly.”

Hamilton snorts. “Not likely.”

Marie takes the moment to glare, Thom reveling in the way Hamilton wilts. Not so confident after all, is she.

“You have promised you will behave,” Marie reminds her and Hamilton’s chin draws down once, reluctant. Marie turns her look on Thom.

“And you have told me you will have fun. That is all I ask.” Thom nods. Fun. Right. As if that were likely.

But Marie seems to take her word for it. “Now,” she says, cheerful once more. “Who would like a drink?”

The answer is, of course, Hamilton. Her infuriating smirk returns as she nods, though she appears disappointed when Marie waves her off to the kitchen without following, glaring at Thom like it’s all her fault before storming away.

Marie takes Thom’s hands when she’s gone, squeezing tightly.

“I did not say so before, but you look _magnifique._ ”

Some of Thom’s tension rolls away. “You too,” she says. “Very daring.”

Marie throws her head back and laughs, the sound husky and familiar. “Ah, I may have something planned for later,” she admits, winking. “We shall see. Now, a drink?”

Thom reluctantly pulls her hand back. “Not tonight. We took my car.”

“Ah, well, next time then,” Marie agrees, easily. “I will be in the kitchen if you need me. Tell Jamie I say hello.”

“Of course.”

Thom watches as Marie makes her way across the room, faces turning towards her as she goes, greetings and smiles following her. Hamilton latches back onto her the moment she’s across and they parade off into the kitchen.

Thom realizes she’s still standing in the doorway only when it opens behind her, a cold gust from the hallway outside raising the hairs on her arm as she quickly steps aside to let the new couple come in. She tries to pretend she hasn’t just been loitering in the threshold, hesitantly stepping into the living room proper.

There are a few people here she knows, but most of the crowd seems younger, under her year. Apparently when Thom was away in France, Marie decided to adopt most of the freshman class, something Thom isn’t a great fan of. She finally spots Jamie again, but to her surprise her friend is not alone, sitting on Marie’s piano bench with a guy Thom vaguely recognizes. His name is some silly alliteration. Jim Jones. John Jim. Jack Jay.

Jamie seems happy, bent over in conversation, lips moving rapidly. Instead of disturbing her, Thom scopes out a spot on one of the sofas, claiming an empty armchair for her own. There’s a conversation going on between a few girls already there, but Thom is exhausted even thinking about the small talk she’d have to do to join them. She pretends to listen, affixing an empty smile on her face as she mostly people watches, wondering when Marie met so many people that weren’t, well, her.

Maybe she should just go home, she thinks, after checking her phone for the fifth time, seeing a measly thirty-minutes slip by. She’s never put much stalk in Halloween before. This was the first time she’d really dressed up since moving out of her parents’ home.

She could go to a bar, she supposes, and let someone pick her up. It’s been a while since she’d gotten laid and in this dress she wouldn’t even have to say much. Some strong arms could roll her around the sheets and help her forget how stupid she feels, sitting awkwardly on this couch. Some human contact to remind her she still existed.

But going alone, especially in this costume, just seems like asking for danger. And tearing Jamie away from her conversation would just be needy and she doesn’t want to be that.

Or she could go back home and sit on her couch, watching scary movies, and texting Jamie that she’d give her a ride back home when she called. That suddenly seems like the best option.

She makes up her mind in a flash and stands, not bothering to say goodbye to any of her couch mates, not that they so much as glance at her as she goes. Her costume seems ridiculous in the light of everything; the money she’d spent and the time she’d put in for one lame house party making her stomach flip.

It doesn’t help that some guy grabs her arm on her way out. She yanks herself away, glaring at his leering face, appalled by the fact that he doesn’t even seem that drunk.

She quiets the screaming in her mind, crosses her arms and wishing suddenly that her cape was not made of such shear material. Stupid, all of it. She throws on her coat when she reaches the door, buttoning it to the throat.

No one stops her as she takes the door handle. She’s glad. It means both Jamie and Marie are busy and she hasn’t disturbed them with her own problems. She steps out into the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when the door closes behind her.

Finally. She can just go home.

Her feet are killing her. Marie’s apartment is on the forth floor and there is no way she’s taking the stairs, even if the elevator to her building is small and ancient. She walks to the end of the hall, pressing the button, leaning against the wall as she waits for the aging lift to creak its way to her floor.

It takes a few minutes, but at last she hears the gears stop churning. The chipped white door slides open to reveal a space barely bigger than a closet. She steps in with a sigh and presses the button for the ground floor, leaning against the elevator wall and closing her eyes.

“Hey wait! Hold the lift! _Shit._ Hold the lift!”

Thom’s eyes snap open. She doesn’t move as a familiar figure comes thundering down the hallway, arms balancing two stacked crates of empty beer bottles. Hamilton slips inside just as the doors are closing.

For a moment she doesn’t notice Thom, breathing heavily and grinning. Then she turns her head and freezes.

“Fuck.”

The freshman’s mouth twists hard, thick brows pulling together.

“Fuck,” she mutters again. “Of fucking course. It has to be _you._ ”

Thom doesn’t want to deal with this.

“My sentiments exactly,” Thom agrees, turning away. She jams her fingers against the ground floor button again, waiting for the thing to move. It doesn’t.

Hamilton shifts, the two crates bottles clinking. “Can you hurry this damn thing up,” she demands. “I’d rather _not_ spend any more of my night stuck in a room with you.”

“As you can see, I am _pressing the button_ ,” Thom sneers, jabbing it again just to show her. “It’s old. What do you expect?”

Hamilton just groans. She shifts again to more clinking. Then again.

It quickly gets to be too much.

“You could just put them down,” Thom observes.

“I’ve got it,” Hamilton snaps.

“You obviously don’t.”

“And you’ve _obviously_ never done a hard day’s work in your entire life, Jefferson.”

Thom sniffs. “I’m sorry, are you insulting me for not wasting my time flipping burgers? If I recall correctly, you’re majoring in polisci and econ. You’re not exactly aiming for a life manual labor.”

Hamilton glares at her. “Aiming to better yourself is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Ah, so you admit that what you are now is worse.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Hamilton groans. “Get me the hell out of here.”

She slams a heel against the wall and they both freeze as the elevator abruptly moans, lurching suddenly, before ever so slowly beginning to move down _._

“Ha!” Hamilton crows, triumphant, and that’s just when the lift groans again.

They exchange a frozen look as the something like gears screeching reverberates through the metal walls. The elevator shutters heavily. Thom has the sinking realization that they had just come to a complete and utter stop.

“No.”

Thom slams her finger against the ground floor button. The lift does nothing.

This cannot be happening. She bends over the control panel, seeing the light for the ground floor still lit, but another little light, this one flashing and red, lit up at the top of the board. Shit.

Hamilton drops the crates, elbowing past her roughly. Thom lets her at it, feeling her stomach sink to her feet.

Hamilton jams her finger at the ground floor button several times in quick succession, but nothing happens, not even a quiver of movement. She tries the open door button next and, when that fails, runs her hands down the control board, hitting every button. Nothing happens. Letting out a shriek of frustration, Hamilton slaps it.

“Yes, that’ll fix it right up,” Thom sneers. “It’s not like hitting it didn’t break it in the first place.”

Alex whirls around – or tries to. There isn’t much room already in the elevator. She shoves a finger against Thom’s chest, eyes narrowing. “This is as much your fault as mine. If you hadn’t of provoked me – ”

“You would fight a dead rat if it looked at you wrong.”

She bats Hamilton’s hand away and then, because she can, she grabs the smaller girl by the shoulders and forcibly moves her out of her way.

Hamilton’s eyes darken. The cords in her tighten for a moment and Thom almost think she’s going to hit her, but after a second the tension releases. Hamilton lets out a shriek of frustration, kicking the elevator again until there’s a sharp _snap._

Hamilton goes down. Thom instinctively reaches out to catch her, but the freshman weighs more than she was expecting. Thanks to her heels she can’t balance properly enough to stop them both from doing down, Thom’s ass hitting the floor hard.

“Shit,” Hamilton breathes. “Fuck.”

“Are you hurt?” Thom asks, momentarily dazed.

“No, shit. But look at this.”

Hamilton wriggles, yanking at something, before holding up her left shoe miserably, the four-inch heel snapped off and hanging by a strip of leather.

“Oh get off me,” Thom growls, pushing Hamilton’s shoulders until she shifts. Thom quickly climbs to her feet, running her hands down her dress, suddenly paranoid about a rip.

Hamilton meanwhile has yanked off her other shoe and put them both in one of the crates, sliding them into a corner. She doesn’t stand up once she’s done, just props herself up on the opposite wall like the floor isn’t full of germs.

“Jesus, you look fine, princess,” Hamilton says, rolling her eyes as Thom picks up her cape, checking carefully for holes.

“Queen,” Thom snaps, ignoring her. She breathes only a little better when she finds nothing wrong in her costume, finally letting the cape fall from her fingers.

“Whatever,” Hamilton says. “Look, you got your phone? Mine’s inside.”

Taking in Hamilton’s skintight dress, Thom believes it. She fishes into her coat pocket until she finds her phone. She dials Marie’s number, frowning as it rings and rings before going to voicemail.

“She’s probably busy. Just text her,” Hamilton suggests.

“Oh, shut up.” Thom finds Jamie’s number instead, breathing a sigh of relief when Jamie immediately picks up.

_“Thom? Where are you? What’s wrong?”_

Oh thank God. Thom relays their situation the best she can, Jamie blessingly managing not to laugh even when Thom explains just who is in the elevator with her.

_“You need me to send an ambulance too?”_ Thom asks, whistling lowly.

“Just get Marie, will you?” Thom requests.

_“Of course. Hold on. Try not to kill the brat before we get you. I’ll call you back.”_

The line goes dead. Jamie, in her efficiency, leaves Thom alone with no barrier between her and Hamilton.

The girl in question is watching her expectantly. “Well?” she demands.

“My friend is getting help,” Thom says shortly, tucking her phone away.

“And? What about Lafayette?”

“That would be the help.”

“Well, that’s something, at least.” Hamilton huffs, rubbing at her nose with hands that have been pressed flat against the floor. Thom wrinkles her nose. Looking down at her, however, reminders Thom of how badly her feet ache.

She hesitates a moment, before unzipping her coat and gingerly laying it on the floor, spreading it as wide as she’s able. She tries to keep all her limbs from touching the floor as she sits, Hamilton shifting to pull her legs up beneath her as Thom joins her on the floor.

There’s not much to do but not look at each other. Thom pulls her phone out, thinking she might play a game, but her battery reminds her how much of a bad idea that would be. She ends up tapping her fingers along its sides, unlocking and locking it repeatedly, waiting for the call.

Hamilton, if anything, seems worse. She shifts again, tugging at the hem of her skirt as it rides up her thigh. Any further there’d be nothing left to hide.

“So, what are you even supposed to be anyway?” Hamilton asks, breaking the silence.

Thom rolls her eyes. “Elsa,” she says, spreading her arms. “Obviously.”

Hamilton just blinks at her.

“ _Frozen_?” Thom tries. There’s no recognition. Thom can’t believe it. “Seriously? How fresh off the boat are you?”

Instantly, Hamilton scowls. Okay _maybe_ that came out a bit wrong.

“You’ve seriously never seen _Frozen_?” Thom asks. “Marie _loves_ that movie. We’ve watched it together at least three times.”

Hamilton looks away, ears red. “I don’t have time to watch movies.”

Bullshit.

Thom looks over Hamilton again, taking in her ‘costume’. She sees nothing but the black dress and broken black heels, bright red lipstick and Hamilton’s hair teased and falling around her shoulders.

“And what about you,” Thom demands. “Are you, a cat? You forgot your anti-slut ears.”

Hamilton rolls her eyes. “I’m Sandy,” she says.

“Like the hurricane?”

“Like _Grease_ , Jesus. You fucking psycho.”

Hamilton stares at her like she’s an idiot, which isn’t really something Thom’s familiar with. She scowls in response.

“I’m sorry, who here hasn’t seen _Frozen?_ ”

“ _Grease_ is a classic,” Hamilton snarls. “I’ve watched it since I was a kid. It was my mom’s favorite – ”

She cuts off abruptly, mouth pinching like she bit into a lemon. She turns her head sharply away, arms crossed over her stomach.

Thom feels her silence like a blow in the gut, not entirely sure what she’s done but recognizing that expression as the twin of the one Marie sometimes got, when she talked about her family back in France. She doesn’t know what to say. And this is _Hamilton_ so she doesn’t want to have to say anything at all.

She’s spared when her phone rings, this time Marie’s number flashing up on the screen. She accepts the call at once, noticing Hamilton straighten up in the corner of her eye.

_“Thom!”_ Marie greets.

“Is that Lafayette?” Hamilton asks, straightening up. “Put her on speaker.”

Thom reluctantly does. Hamilton grabs hold of the phone, yanking Thom’s arm forward as Marie’s voice quickly fills the elevator, the sounds of the party and voices talking muffled in the background.

_“I have called the police,”_ Marie says, talking loudly to be heard. _“They are on their way, but said it might take a while. All their officers are responding to more urgent emergencies.”_

“It’s Halloween,” Thom reasons, despite the abrupt drop in her stomach. “Of course they are.”

“Did they give you an ETA?” Hamilton demands.

_“Alex? Is that you? We’ve been looking everywhere for you! Where on earth did you go?”_

“Just, ah, taking out some bottles,” she mutters. “The trashcans were over flowing.”

_“Ah. So that_ was _you at the door!”_ Marie says, in the voice of realization. Thom looks at Hamilton confused, more so when Hamilton’s ears turn pink. _“Hercules and I were wondering. She’s quite embarrassed that you saw. Though you really should knock if you’re going to – ”_

“How long until the firefighters get here?” Hamilton cuts in.

There’s a muffled noise as Marie puts the phone down, talking to someone else. _“At least an hour,”_ she says, returning.

“Well, shit.” Hamilton lets go of the phone, slumping against the wall. Marie eyes her, taking the call of speaker and pressing it to her ear.

“Give us an update if you hear more?” she asks.

_“Of course. Your Jamie says hello as well and reminds you not to kill my dear Alex._ ”

“Sure. Thanks, Marie.”

The call ends with a click. Thom sits back, now at an utter loss.

An hour. In an elevator. With _Hamilton_.

Oddly, the thought doesn’t make her automatically want to bash her head in, like it might have thirty minutes ago. At the moment she’s too intrigued by the way Hamilton is staring at her knees, an unfamiliar expression on her face.

Because something in Thom’s understanding had _clicked_ during the phone call. She settles her back against the elevator wall, surveying the girl across from her.

“So,” she drawls. “You and Marie.”

Hamilton’s head whips up, a furious snarl on her face. “Drop it, Jefferson.”

“Oh, but you have to admit it’s a bit funny,” Thom says. “You crushing after her. It explains the dress.”

Hamilton glares at her. “I’m _Sandy_ ,” she repeats.

“Yes, but I remember now,” Thom says, smirking. “I’ve seen the posters before. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Sandy wore pants. You just wanted to give Marie something a little more to ogle.”

She admits, for a seduction plan, it isn’t that horrible. As slutty as it is, Hamilton’s dress _is_ well fitting, hugging the wide curve of her hips and making the most of her slim shoulders. There really is an obscene amount of golden skin on display.

Thom smirks when Hamilton stays silent. “You know she told me she’d dressed up just for someone special,” she confides. “I supposed now we know who.”

“Holy fuck. Just _shut up!”_

Hamilton launches herself at Thom, aiming a fist that lands on Thom’s shoulder. Thom gets a mouthful of Hamilton’s hair when the other girl lands on top of her, taking her by surprise and pushing her to the floor. Thom’s larger yet by far, and stronger. After a brief moment of shock – astounded that the girl _actually hit her_ – she surges upwards, seizing Hamilton by the shoulders and rolling them over.

Hamilton struggles, but Thom has six inches and at least thrice as many pounds on her. She grabs Hamilton by the wrists, stopping her from trying to hit, and just barely manages to avoid getting a kick in the crotch.

The movement costs Hamilton though. Her dress rolls up, not very much, but just far enough that Thom freezes as she succeeds in straddling her, looking down at Hamilton with widening eyes.

“Are you – ” Thom swallows, suddenly dry mouthed. “Are you not wearing any underwear?”

Hamilton’s face floods red. Thom watches it race up her color bones as the girl beneath her freezes, muscles tense.

“You are!” Thom crows. “I can’t believe it. You are! You slut!”

Hamilton can’t meet her eyes. “Get off me,” she says and Thom is still laughing as she complies.

“You slut,” Thom breathes. “You slutty motherfucker. I can’t believe this.”

Hamilton scrambles off her back, yanking her dress back down. She retreats to the opposite wall, glaring, face still burning red.

“Don’t call me that!” she snaps, but she still can’t meet Thom’s eyes.

Thom can’t. She’s almost hysterical with laughter. She has to swallow it down, taking in several deep breaths before she’s calm enough to respond. When she does, she shakes her head, smirking.

“You seem to think I’m insulting you. I’m not. I’m in awe of your audacity.”

Hamilton finally glances at her frowning, like she’s not sure Thom means it. Which, well, fair.

“You hate me.”

“Oh, I do. I really do.”

“I _despise_ you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

Hamilton frowns. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just – ” Thom has to swallow down a few more hysterical giggles before she can proceed, waving a hand over herself. “I was freaking out about wearing _this_ and you’re fucking walking around without underwear. Jesus.”

She looks down at herself, seeing where the scuffling on the floor has gotten dust on her dress. In that moment, she can’t quite bring herself to care.

She can always wash it. It’s just a dress.

And isn’t _that_ liberating. Something slides off her shoulders that she didn’t even notice she was carrying. She shakes out her shoulders, before running both her hands through her hair, scratching at her scalp.

Who’s to see her? Hamilton? She’s not even wearing panties.

Thom stretches out her legs, taking off her heals one by one and chucking them into on the crates with Hamilton’s. Her toes crack when she rolls her feet and she grins. Perfect.

When she looks up, Hamilton’s staring at her, looking like she’s never seen her before. Thom grins back, resting her back against the wall and closing her eyes, relaxing. After a few minutes, she hears Hamilton shift too and then there is just peace and quiet.

It’s oddly the most relaxing part of Thom’s weekend, maybe even the most relaxed she’s felt since coming back from France. When she’s silent, Hamilton’s not even bad company.

Thom loses track of how long they sit there before her legs start to go numb, finally having to sit up when the pins and needles start. She straightens, glancing at Hamilton, finding the girl’s eyes open and staring the ceiling.

“Still thinking about Marie?” Thom guesses and Hamilton’s eyes fall down.

“I just don’t _get_ it,” Hamilton says, sitting up and sounding pained. “She invites me to parties all the time. She buys me dinner. She says I’m cute and sweet and all this other bullshit and then what? Nothing?”

“Marie is very affectionate,” Thom says, shrugging. “She’s like that with everyone.”

“Yes, but it was different with _me!”_

Hamilton let’s out a noise of frustration and buries her face in her arms. Thom doesn’t have the heart to tell her she can see the dark patch of her thatch in the gap between her ankles, merely hums and leans back, adverting her gaze.

“You have known Marie for what? A semester?” Thom ventures. “I have known her since we were nine. Trust me, she will still want you around, even if you aren’t fucking.”

“What?” Hamilton’s voice is muffled in her arms. She lifts her head, squinting.

Thom shrugs, not entirely sure why she was being comforting. She supposes it’s easier to like the girl when she was not attacking every word out of her mouth.

“That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? You shouldn’t worry. Marie’s not going to dumb you just because you’re some dumb freshmen that didn’t put out.”

“I _was_ going to,” Hamilton says, brows furrowing.

“ _I_ know that and _you_ know that,” Thom agrees. “But I guarantee you Marie had no idea that was even on the table. She can be frustratingly unobservant sometimes.”

She can practically see the gears in Hamilton’s head turning. She sighs, wondering why she’s bothering bearing her soul to a girl she normally can’t stand. “We tried it,” she says plainly. “Once. It didn’t work out.”

Hamilton blinks at her. “I didn’t even know you were gay.”

“Apparently Marie’s not the only unobservant one then.”

“But you’re so . . . ”

Hamilton trails off as Thom raises an eyebrow, daring her to finish that sentence.

“I mean, your politics are so – ”

“I can see your cunt,” Thom interjects, ruthlessly, victorious when Hamilton immediately squeaks, shifting her legs.

“You’re awfully modest for someone not wearing any underwear,” Thom notes.

“Oh, shut up,” Hamilton snaps, rolling her eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. How was I supposed to know she’d already be having sex when I walked in?”

“Assuming Marie was in her bedroom and not having sex on the kitchen counter, probably because she was _in_ her bedroom. What did you think she was doing in there?”

Hamilton scowls, throwing out her arms in exasperation. “I’ve never even _kissed_ anyone. How would I know?”

Thom’s brain falters. She sits up, staring at Hamilton wide-eyed until the girl sags under her, uncertain. “You’ve never – You were going to have sex with and you don’t even know how to _kiss_?”

Hamilton shrugs, hapless. “I figured I’d learn.”

“You’re not wearing any panties!”

She screams the last word. Hamilton rocks away under the torrent of it, red lips gaping as her blush deepens even more, if possible. Thom feels a matching roll of heat rise under her skin, starting at her neck and fluttering through her body. It’s then that she realizes how close they’ve gotten, Hamilton pushed away from the wall while Thom’s on her knees, legs almost brushing as she leans in. She’s so close she can distinguish the dark hole of Hamilton’s pupil, surrounded by a very thin ring of equally black iris.

Thom closes her eyes, leaning back. She hears Hamilton release a breath as she does, which only confirms it. Taking a steadying breath of her own, she opens her eyes.

“No. Okay no. That’s it.”

Thom looks around, finder her phone cast aside in the corner of the elevator. She picks it up, straightening her dress as she dials.

Hamilton straightens.

“Wait. What are you doing?”

“Calling for help,” Thom replies simply.

“What? From who?”

“From God.”

“ _Thom?”_ Jamie’s voice sounds surprised on the other end. Thom would wonder at why, if she were not so focused in her purpose for calling.

“Jamie. Call me before the firefighters get here, okay?”

_“Thom? What’s wrong? You sound upset. Is Hamilton – ”_

“Fine. We’re both fine. Thanks.”

She ends the call with a swipe, setting it back down and turning to face Hamilton fully.

“Hamilton,” she says. That won’t work. “Alex,” she tries instead.

“Yes?” Hamilton – Alex - answers, still staring at her cautiously.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“I – ”

She freezes as Thom shifts on her knees, coming to the middle of the elevator and sitting back on her knees. Thom slides her hands up Alex’s bared shoulders, feeling the shutter breath Alex takes as she slowly cradles her head, one hand on the back of her neck, the other tilting up her chin.

Alex bends easily, dark eyes flickering everywhere over Thom’s face, darting between her eyes to her lips rapidly.

“Okay?” Thom asks.

Alex’s lips begin to curl, like she wanted to snarl. “Just fucking do it.”

So Thom does. She closes the gap between them, pressing her closed lips against Alex’s in a chaste little kiss that doesn’t feel little at all. The snarl on Alex’s lips disappears. Thom can feel her gasp, swallowing the noise, and Alex grows very, very still.

There are rules about first kisses. Normally this would be the point that she would press forward, opening her mouth and exploring her partner deeper. But that seems sudden.

She softens the pressure, sliding her lips so she can take in the soft texture of Alex’s own, slightly chapped but warm. She ends the kiss with the slightest hint of something deeper, sucking very lightly on Alex’s bottom lip before letting go.

Alex’s eyes are open, wide. She hadn’t even closed them during the kiss, the idiot. Thom settles back on her knees, withdrawing her hands and folding them into her lap, suddenly feeling a bit bashful under Alex’s intensive stare.

“So, uh, how was that?”

Alex’s mouth opens. Thom notices distractedly that her lipstick is smeared, hints of a darker coloring invading the bright red.

“How was that?” she echoes. “ _How was that?”_

Thom shrinks. Okay, not exactly the response she was hoping for. She’d just figured _someone_ should kiss the girl, before she went on to do such a stupid thing as _seduce someone without underwear_. And no one deserved a shitty first kiss. Not even Alex.

“Right,” she breathes, looking away. “Sorry.”

“ _Do it again.”_

Thom’s head snaps up. Alex’s stares at her, determined. She quickly shifts to her knees, echoing Thom’s posture.

Thom blinks are her, thrown by the sudden reversal. “You _want_ me to kiss you again? Are you sure? I – ”

“Oh, come on!”

Alex surges up on her knees, wasting no time in clumsily mashing their lips together. Their teeth hit, noses bumping. Thom grabs Alex’s shoulders and steadies them both before they can go tipping over.

Alex doesn’t seem to care about the crudeness of her start. Thom can feel her opening her mouth slightly, probably trying to entice Thom to come in.

If that’s what she wants . . .

Thom slides her tongue across the distance, Alex squeaking when Thom actually _does_ lick at her lips. Her mouth falls open suddenly, too wide. If Thom could roll her eyes she would. Instead, she shifts one hand off Alex’s shoulders to her jaw, encouraging her to close it slightly. She does and Thom presses onward, pressing her tongue finally past those lips and into the other girl’s mouth.

For a moment, Alex is still. Then she surges in response, tongue coming up to battle Thom’s. Thom tries to get her to gentle, demonstrating herself, but this time Alex ignores her. After a few moments, Thom gives up. She pulls back, watching Alex blink at her red, before she tightens her grip on Alex’s jaw and dives back in.

Their third kiss shares none of the gentleness of the first, but gains a lot more skill than the second. Alex is a quick study, if aggressive. She bears down on Thom giving as well as she gets, sometimes nipping, sometimes sucking, always on the offensive.

Someone one kiss has turned into three, which quickly devolves into a long string of kissing that could be called nothing less than making out. It’s good – great even – but eventually Thom’s knees begin to ache from kneeling on the hard floor.

She shifts breaking away and Alex seems to understand the problem because she immediately asks, “Floor?”

Thom thinks about the dress she has on, hesitantly. She notices for the first time how the fabric of her cape has caught under their bodies, pulling taut. It’s a miracle she hasn’t ripped it yet.

Alex notices her gaze.

“You could always take it off?”

For someone who’d just had her first kiss, her smirk isn’t even bashful. Thom glares at her, but Alex just shrugs, holding up her hands.

“My ass has been hanging out all night. Hell, I’ll probably _still_ be showing more skin than you, even if you’re in your bra and panties.”

Which is not technically true but Thom appreciates the sentiment. She still bites her lip, weighing it. Alex stares at her expectantly, red lipstick smeared, a high pink flush over her nose.

And she wants to kiss Thom. Demands it even. What is Thom’s life?

Thom breathes out a sigh. “You’ll have to unzip me,” she says. Alex brightens like she’s just announced Christmas.

Thom turns her back, letting the freshman’s nimble fingers trace up her back, fiddling with the hook at the back. She pops it open and then proceeds to pull the zipper down slowly, Thom forgetting just how low the zipper goes when Alex’s hands end at the curve of her ass.

She has to stand to take the dress off, but Alex stands with her, staring at her like she’s unwrapping as present as Thom slowly pulls the long sleeves off her arms, making sure her strapless bra is still sitting right before finally letting the bodice fall.

Alex’s eyes rove over the long expanse of her skin hungrily. Thom’s plain white bra seems ridiculously simple, inadequate. But Alex doesn’t seem to care how plain her undergarments are, or that her sky-blue panties don’t match her bra like in the movies. Her eyes slip from Thom’s chest as Thom steps fully out of the dress, folding it in her arms carefully and placing it on top their shoes.

“Dude, you’re _shredded!_ ”

Thom winces, but the shriek in Alex’s voice seems delighted. She presses forward, running her hands over Thom’s stomach, fingers finding the little crests between her abs.

“How in the fuck?” Alex demands and Thom shrugs helplessly.

“I work out?” Thom offers. “I used to ride horses when I was a kid and my mom put me in ballet until I grew too tall for it.”

“Bless your mother,” Alex breathes.

“Please don’t talk about my mother right now.”

Alex laughs, wicked. She snaps Thom’s hands tugging her to the ground. “Come on. Come on,” she insists, laughing.

She’s so strange. Thom lets herself be tugged down to her knees again, and then there’s an awkward moment where they both figure out how they’ll do this, the space in the elevator too small for either of them to lay out fully. Thom lays out her coat, spreading it the best they can, but it’s a band-aid solution at best.

Eventually, they sort it out by kissing. Alex initiates it, but it’s Thom who deepens it, drawing out a low moan from Alex for the first time in the night.

Alex reiterates by pushing against her, bending Thom backwards until they both finally end up on the floor. Their knees bump. It’s too small for both of them to curl up comfortably.

Alex immediately wants to tussle for the top, Thom can tell, but she’s forgotten that Thom’s muscles _mean_ something. Thom snatches her hips as she tries to straddle Thom’s waist, lifting up her measly, wiggling weight, and rolling them over. Alex protests at once, but Thom quickly straddles her and bends down low, recapturing her lips in another kiss.

Alex melts beneath her. She stops pushing at Thom’s shoulders, wrapping her fingers around her neck and pulling her in instead.

Eventually, though, Alex gets restless. Of course she does. Thom feels her thighs straining underneath her, trying to flip them, and this time Thom lets her. Alex lets out a crow of triumph as she winds up on top, resting her palms slat on Thom’s shoulders like she’s really pinned her.

Thom rolls her eyes.

“Yes, well, get on with it,” she drawls.

Alex’s eyes glint with the challenge. She dives back down, but instead of meeting Thom’s expectant lips, her teeth hone in on the crook of Thom’s neck, biting down _hard_.

And shit. Thom’s spine curves up, nearly shaking Alex from her roost. Alex backs off quickly, peering down at her with a less than certain look.

“Not good?” she asks.

Thom remembers to open her eyes, squinting at her with a scowl. “ _Very_ good,” she corrects. “Do it the fuck again.”

So Alex does. It’s not a kiss. This is definitely not just kissing anymore and Thom knows they’re crossing all sorts of lines she doesn’t want to think about.

What was she thinking before? That she wanted to _stop_ Alex from doing something stupid and having sex without a first kiss.

At least, Thom could say Alex has been kissed now.

Alex bites into the meet of her shoulder experimentally, going deeper when Thom just groans, stretching out her neck to give her more access. Thom is a sucker for shoulder rubs and massages. Having someone bite there is just a dream.

As Alex works on sucking the darkest hickey known to man, Thom collects herself enough to run her hands across Alex’s back, stopping when she tips the top of Alex’s ass. But the girl has noticed and she shakes herself encouragingly. Thom takes the invitation, running her hands over the wide curve of her hips and gripping her ass.

Two things happen at once.

Thom gives a start when the tips of her fingers run past Alex’s dress, dipping into the ridiculously hot skin beneath, and Alex moans, grinding down, as something wet and warm slides over one of Thom’s thighs.

They both freeze.

When Alex tenses, looking like she’s going to do something stupid and apologize, Thom squeezes her ass again.

“Are you okay?”

Alex looks faintly bamboozled by the question. “I – ”

She cuts off, shifting her weight, head tilted like she’s trying to look down the length of their bodies.

“I can let go,” Thom says. “Do you want to stop? We probably should stop.”

But Alex shakes her head, lips screwing up. “ _No_. I don’t want that, just . . . ”

She trails off, peering down at Thom hesitantly. “ _Why_ are you okay with this?” she asks. “I don’t even know you. I don’t even _like_ you.”

“I’m finding all kinds of new things to like,” Thom quips, but the joke falls flat as Alex’s lips flatten. “Sorry. That was rude,” she says quickly.

“It was _true_ ,” Alex says. Her eyes narrow. “You hated me before this moment.”

“So did you,” Thom returns.

Alex breathes out, brow furrowing. “I did. I do,” she agrees. She looks down at her. “You’re politics are shit.”

“I think your manners are abysmal,” Thom returns.

“You’re a snob.”

“You’re a cretin.”

“Wanna make out?”

Thom laughs. Some of the tension has eased, Alex growing looser in her hands. “I think we’re a bit past making out,” she says.

“Yeah, well,” Alex licks her lips, bending down to peck a kiss. “Wanna have sex?”

Thom peers up at her. “Are you sure you want to have your first time in an elevator?”

“Sure, why not?” Alex grins, kissing her again. “I’m having lots of firsts tonight.”

Which is well and truly nice, but - “Are you sure you want to have your first time with _me_?” she can’t help but ask.

Alex rocks back. “I thought we just went over this.”

“You said you hate me,” Thom reminds her.

“Hm, I do,” Alex agrees. “I’ll probably want to kill you the next time I see you.” She nips at Thom’s jaw. “Then I’ll probably want to do just this.”

She finds the already sore spot on Thom’s shoulder and bites down again. Thom groans, hips bucking up, grabbing at Alex’s ass to balance.

Alex pulls back, lips shiny. “Yeah, definitely that,” she grins.

“But are you _sure_ you want to do this?” Thom asks again, peering at her. “I know you’re turned on right now but when you stop and _think_ about it – ”

“Jesus, you can make romantic love to me later,” Alex groans. “Would you please sure hurry up and fuck me?”

To punctuate her point she grinds down on Thom’s thigh, enveloping her thigh with a wet and sticky heat.

_Jesus_.

“Yes, alright, fine,” Thom groans as Alex repeats the motion. “Lord, were you raised in a barn?”

“An island actually,” Alex grins.

“Do they not teach you patience on that island?”

“The opposite actually,” Alex says, still working her teeth around her favorite spot, rutting her hips shamelessly. “I learned not to wait to get what I want.”

Thom grabs her hips, forcing them to still, Alex looking up and pouting. “Yes, well, my mama taught me the power of biding my time.”

Alex guffaws, burying her forehead into Thom’s neck. “Oh God. I thought you were about to say foreplay.”

“I learned that one myself.”

“You really do talk about your mother a lot during sex. Maybe you should - ”

She squeals when Thom takes one hand and peels up the last few inches of her dress, the other descending with a sharp _crack_.

Alex’s eyes widen in shock for one second, before breaking out into a terrible grin.

“Did your mother teach you that too?”

She’s asking for the next slap, so Thom gives it to her. She cups Alex’s ass afterward, reveling in the rising heat.

“You were saying?”

“Off. I want this off,” Alex demands, fingers tugging on Thom’s bra. Thom relents, sitting up long enough for Alex’s clever fingers to unhook the clasp, tossing it into the corner.

Alex descends immediately, fingers pinching down on either nipple, sending a zap of pleasure down Thom’s spine, pooling in her stomach.

Alex works her mouth down quickly from Thom’s neck, landing a sloppy kiss between her breasts before shifting to one side. Thom’s nipples have been hard for a while, standing tall on her chest. She watches as Alex takes one dark bud between her lips, sucking at her more gently then she ever tried to kiss.

It makes Thom’s toes curl and Alex smirk.

“Is this going slow enough for you?”

Thom lets go of her ass, seizing the back of her head and pushing her mouth down. “Make yourself useful, why don’t you?”

Alex does. She grinds her hips steadily as she works Thom’s chest over, spending almost as much time biting the skin around her breasts as she does teasing Thom’s nipples.

Thom reaches up and finds the zipper of Alex’s dress, yanking it down sharply. Alex gets the message, pulling back just long enough to shuck her shoulders out of the material before returning to her work.

Thom pushes the dress down Alex’s chest herself. Alex’s breasts are large and lovely, her body soft in places Thom’s is not. She gets a full handful of Alex’s breasts and squeezes, feeling her hard nipples under her palms. She gets them between her fingers and pinches, Alex biting down hard on her own chest in retaliation.

They quickly make a game out of it. Alex’s bites growing sharper as Thom plays with her nipples, taking them tight between finger and thumb and twisting. Her thigh grows wetter as Alex bears down and Thom can feel her own arousal dampening her panties.

She runs her hands up the smooth expanse of Alex’s stomach, feeling the soft skin give way under her fingers. She finds the dress still tangled around Alex’s stomach and pushes it down, over Alex’s ass, the other girl kicking it away and to the floor. There’s nothing between them now but Thom’s own underwear and Alex seems determined to redeem this.

In the space of biting down on one nipple and sucking a hickey to the underside of Thom’s breasts, Alex snakes her hands down Thom’s stomach without her even noticing. She _does_ notice when one hand slips smoothly into her panties, Alex’s fingers wasting no time in spreading her lips and brushing her clit.

Thom’s hips jerk. Alex’s smile grows victorious.

She doesn’t hesitate, honing in directly on Alex’s clit and rubbing rapidly. Thom’s knees pull up at the sudden harsh sensation, nearly bucking Alex off. Alex settles her weight down lower on Thom’s thighs, pushing her back against the floor. She pauses her ministrations just long enough to finally yank Thom’s panties down, tangling them against her thighs, before her fingers dive back down.

Thom grips her shoulders as Alex continues her relentless pace, bucking her hips when the heat in her belly grows. Her muscles contract, bemoaning her emptiness. She bucks her hips up and Alex slips two fingers into her easily, curling them just so.

Thom’s muscles clamp down. She bears her teeth as her orgasm crashes through her, much more quickly than she’s used to, knocking the wind out her. Alex presses her down to the ground, working her through it. She kisses Thom messily as Thom’s muscles finally ease, body melting against the floor in a puddle.

When she pulls back and Thom blinks open her eyes blearily, Alex is staring down at her as the cat that got the canary.

It takes her a minute to find her tongue, the orgasm making her lips tingle pleasantly, a deep-seated laziness settling into her bones. She flops her arms down, casting one hand down her face.

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I’m a quick study,” Alex grins.

“You’re insane.” Thom groans, bracing herself on her elbows and sitting up. “I can’t believe you just got me off before you did. Are these manners I’m sensing?”

“Oh, fuck off and fuck me,” Alex demands, rolling her eyes. She sits up, still straddling Thom’s lap, and grinds down. The sensation sends an overwrought spark through Thom’s already worked clit.

Right. Time to return the favor.

Thom sits up fully, taking Alex by the hips and urging her off. Alex reluctantly, sitting up against the wall when Thom pushes her. She spreads her knees shamelessly, raising her eyebrows.

“Well?”

“I’m going to use my mouth,” Thom warns, seconds before she pounces.

She lands a wet kiss on Alex’s lips before quickly working her way down, finally getting the chance to bite down on those nipples. With the way Alex squirms, it’s almost a shame to leave them, but needs must.

Thom trails kisses down Alex’s stomach, gliding her lips over the soft skin until at last she reaches the thick dark hair nestled between Alex’s legs.

This is something she knows she’s good at. Thom takes her hands and spreads Alex’s knees further, before reaching down and parting Alex’s lips, licking a seam from her hole to her clit.

Alex flutters above her, hands waving. Thom pulls back just long enough to say, “Put them in my hair,” before she dives back down, sliding her tongue between Alex’s folds.

Alex’s hands dig into Thom’s hair and hold fast. Thom’s just had Alex’s fingers inside her, she knows exactly what she must like, so she does the complete opposite.

She licks the outside of Alex’s lips, playing around the brink of her hole, giving pressure but no penetration. She does this lazily, slowly, much to Alex’s frustration. The freshman tugs are her hair, but Thom doesn’t mind that. She sets her own pace, intent on teasing Alex into tears.

There’s something powerful in ripping the high little sounds from Alex’s throat. Maybe Alex’s victorious smile had been right. Thom certainly _feels_ like she’s won something.

She can feel Alex’s thighs straining around her head. When she presses her tongue over her hole, the muscles quiver, loose and wet. Alex squirms, hands tugging harder on Thom’s hair. Thom bites into the quivering flesh of her thigh in response.

Alex breaks. “Come on,” she breathes. “Come on. Just fuck me already.”

Thom smirks pulling back. “I _am_ fucking you,” she says. She abandons her post just long enough to plant a filthy wet kiss against Alex’s mouth, hearing the other girl moan at the taste of her own juices, before she resumes her station.

This time, she _does_ press her tongue in. Just enough to give the first second of penetration. Alex gasps, chest rising, staring down at Thom with wide-eyes.

Thom meets her gaze, letting her see her smirk before she does it again, this time letting the full length of her tongue press inside.

Alex’s thighs clamp down around Thom’s head. She presses her back open with her arms, licking deeply into Alex’s hole, feeling her slick slide down her chin.

They _must_ be a mess. The elevator isn’t going to _reek_ by the time the firefighters get there, but she can’t bring herself to care.

She eats Alex out loudly – messily – adding teeth when Alex responds by rocking up into her mouth.

She takes Alex apart piece by piece, pleased beyond caring when Alex’s head slumps forward, eyes wide and glazed, watching Thom like she’s the most amazing thing she’s ever seen.

Which maybe she is. Either way, the devotion deserves a reward. Thom licks one last time at Alex’s hole, before finally – _finally –_ sealing her lips over Alex’s clit and sucking.

Alex bows over her, face screwed up in some painful ecstasy. Her eyes rove over Thom’s restlessly, blown wide. She gives a strangled sort of cry and almost draws tears in Thom’s eyes with the way she’s pulling at her hair.

“Fingers,” Alex breathes, chest heaving. “Can you add fingers?”

Thom can. Alex’s hole sucks in two so easily, she quickly retreats and presses in with three. Alex’s muscles squeeze down hard, the girl whining high in her throat as Thom begins to fuck her with them, setting another deliciously slow and thorough pace.

She watches Alex’s head drop with a cry, shoulders shaking. She tries to buck her hips up against Thom’s fingers, demanding something faster, but Thom gets her other arm across the girl’s waste and easily holds her in place.

She sucks hard on the girl’s clit, drawing it into her mouth and folding her tongue around the engorged bead. She feels the easy slide of her fingers and almost toys with the idea of adding a fourth, letting the tip of her pinky press in on her next stroke.

Alex gives a strangled sort of cry and that’s it. Her hole tightens around Thom’s fingers and she’s coming. Thom sucks harder at her clit, listening as her cry breaks into a gutted sort of moan.

She pulls away when Alex slumps against the wall, breathing heavily. Her fingers are sticky when she pulls them away and she doesn’t want come on her hands so she sticks them in her mouth, licking them clean.

Alex makes a pitiful sound against the wall.

“Can you not?” she begs.

Thom shrugs, raising a brow. “My fingers are dirty. Would you like to help?”

Alex groans, turning her face into the wall. Having won, Thom finishes licking her fingers clean, seeing the way Alex turns towards her, almost reluctantly, like she can’t help but to watch.

“Fuck,” Alex sighs. She looks wrecked. Red lipstick smeared down her chin, hair sweaty and disheveled, legs hanging open with shiny thighs.

“Fuck,” she repeats again. “Will you just kiss me?”

Thom obliges. They shift off the wet spot the best they can, settling side by side against the opposite wall. They kiss lazily, without heat, as both their heartbeats come back down to normal. Alex sighs after a while, resting her head on Thom’s shoulder like she’s going to go to sleep.

Sleep sounds wonderful. Unfortunately, they are both still stuck in an elevator, naked, and waiting for the firefighters to get them out.

Thom reaches for her phone, checking the time, surprised to see several missed texts from Jamie and Marie.

She opens the latest one and snorts.

“What is it?” Alex says, drowsily lifting her head.

“Apparently our rescuers will not be here for at least another hour,” Thom replies. She takes her phone, tossing it into the corner, and wrapping her arms around Alex.

Alex lets her head drop again, smiling widely when Thom runs her fingers through her hair, brushing out the mussed up locks.

“Oh goodie,” she breathes. “Hey, Thom?”

“What?”

“Trick, or treat?”

Thom grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! I rushed to get this done in time, but it was worth it. 
> 
> I'm be lurking down people if anyone wants to say hello.


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